For Me
by geradsredskittle666
Summary: Harry thinks about who he is and will become after everything is over. Takes place after the batte of Hogwarts on book 7. Warnings for spoilers and mature themes. Implied child abuse but no details. One shot.


**For Me**

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Harry Potter the book or any of its characters. I do not earn any profit from this work of fanfiction and never intend to. I use Harry Potter and its characters under creative license.

**AN: **Hi readers and I welcome you back. I have not uploaded anything since 2010. Thankyou for reading and as usual R&R. This is set after the battle of Hogwarts. It is how I imagine that Harry feels like when all is said and done and he still lives on.

**Start**

Who am I? I have heard that to know your present, you must know your past. Only then can you proceed with your future.

I know who I was…I was the boy who lived, wizarding savoir and a symbol of strength to all who opposed the dark lord.

You see, when I was a baby the dark lord came to kill me. He was paranoid I, a mere child would become powerful enough to oppose him. He failed. The power of my mothers love saved me and the dark lord was vanquished that night. Some might call that karma.

The wizarding world welcomed me as one of its own. A prince as some might say. I was far too amazed with this new world to question it. I was like a kid at a candy shop; everything that lit up or did a dance amazed me. And to think it was my true home. I never once thought of what was expected of me or what I was being moulded into. I was not a child just learning of a brave new world, I was an unpolished blade of Dumbledore's making.

I was given friends to laugh with and share adventures. I had fame, money and friends….I felt at home and safe at last. I should have seen the warnings then. I was being conditioned into trust. When the kindly old head master with boyish charms and a childish twinkle beckoned me over, I was willing and innocent. Like all other adults I've met he too would have many faces.

As I proved my power he grew proud of me, preying on my need for approval. From preventing the dark lord from getting the philosophers stone, slaying a basilisk and the triwizard tournament I proved that I was strong enough to survive the dark lords attacks. Whether it was luck or skill I cannot say. Only that Dumbledore approved of my developing skills.

While back in the muggle world where that same headmaster had left me as a baby, I was hated and despised. My Aunt Petunia could barely look at me. She used me as her slave. I cooked, cleaned and gardened away. It was not her I feared. She was too disgusted to touch me.

Uncle Vernon was whom I feared. He was strongly against magic. He would often beat me for no reason. Maybe I hadn't done all my chores, maybe I had spoken out of turn. He would punch, slap or kick me if I was lucky. Send me to bed without dinner if I was really lucky. Then there was his belt or cane. That would be the worst. Uncle didn't care if he drew blood.

However the worst would always be the words. I was a worthless freak who deserved nothing and was ungrateful for what little I received. I heard those words every night I was at the Dursley's.

There comes a point when you believe it.

As I entered the final years of school I learned of my connection to the dark lord. I would never have dreamt what it was or what it meant. I continued to hunt down horcruxes for the head master. I believed it was the right thing to do.

So what was I? To the muggles I was a worthless piece of crap, to the head master I was his tool and weapon to defeat the dark lord and to the dark lord I was his sworn enemy from birth.

Never once was I a small child who was loved or a young adult who was well adjusted and happy. Never once did I experience freedom to live. Experience love and find a partner and pass on my name to future generations.

When it came down to it the muggles couldn't care less. The head master expected me to die. It turns out that my connection to the dark lord was more than I expected. There was a part of his soul inside me, a small part of evil that made me his horcrux. The only was to kill him was to kill myself in the process.

When the dark lord came some part of me wanted to give up and let him take me.

Still I'm the hero of this piece.

So I saved the world and now what?

Another dark lord will rise to take the old ones place. Another hero will defeat him/her and be left as empty as I am.

For all that was expected of me I became the hero the wizarding world wanted and proved my muggle relatives wrong. So I should be happy right?

I guess I have a lot to think about…


End file.
